11. Sienna #4
I didn’t hesitate. I needed air that wasn’t tainted with the scent of his cologne desperately. “God, please,” I mumbled, forcing words to come out, but they felt hollow. “If I have to see Ryan feed Lauren a piece of cake, I might commit an actual felony.”
We slipped away through a side path winding past the edge of the reception space, laughter and clinking glasses getting quieter behind us as we walked.
The sky was thick and black above us, the stars obscured by all the lights, the air still sickly with salt and flowers and the occasional waft of perfume when the wind blew.
Matt walked beside me, one hand tucked in the pocket of his slacks, the other brushing against mine more often than not.
“You’ve been a very convincing fake boyfriend,” I said, hating the words as they slipped out.
He glanced over, his lips twitching up at the corner. “I do like to commit to a role.”
I huffed out a breath. “You deserve an Oscar.”
He chuckled lightly, tilting his head back and forth like he was thinking. “Do you think I should thank my fake girlfriend in my acceptance speech? Or is that too sentimental?”
I bumped him lightly with my shoulder. “Definitely too sentimental. Got to keep it cool, Strathmore, since you’re so worried about your reputation .”
“Right, right,” he grinned. “Emotionally stunted. Got it.”
I chuckled but hated the way the air between us was settling, hated the way things were softer, the act dropping.
By the time we reached the villa, the windows were dark, the porch lanterns the only light still flickering as we talked idly about work.
He walked up the steps ahead of me, holding the door open while I peeled off my heels before stepping inside, half out of not wanting to wake Zach with the clicking and half from just how badly my feet were killing me.
Beautiful shoes, but my God, they were torturous.
“…so, then she tells me that she can’t finish her vocabulary test because Mercury is in retrograde and it’s making her feel too ‘emotionally volatile’ to spell,” I continued, dropping my heels by the door as I shut it behind me. “I was impressed she even knew what volatile meant.”
Matt chuckled quietly beside me before ushering me toward the hall. “That might be the most creative way I’ve heard of a kid trying to get out of schoolwork.”
He followed as I walked, my bare feet almost silent against the floor, my dress strap falling off one shoulder. “I gave her extra credit,” I snorted, pushing open the door to my room and stepping through. “She got a B in the end.”
I turned back toward him, half expecting him to respond, but he’d stopped at the doorway. I caught the last flicker of amusement in his expression before it faded into something quieter, something still , and oh, shit , I hated that.
I hated that more than I hated anything else this evening.
“You can come in,” I said, my voice far breathier than I’d intended.
He didn’t move. “Sienna,” he said carefully.
“Oh my God.” I rolled my eyes and set my clutch down on the dresser. “It’s not an invitation to sleep with me, Matt.”
His mouth twitched. Thank God. He hadn’t shut off completely. “You sure?”
I stared at him for a long second, my hand wrapping around my wrist out of nerves. “Fuck,” I muttered.
He arched a single brow at me.
“Look,” I said, taking a step back. “We were mid-conversation, and I don’t feel like whispering about retrograde-vocabulary-trauma in the hallway while praying it doesn’t wake your kid. That’s—that’s all.”
He held my gaze for a second, and then another. Idiot, my brain screamed. Desperate.
Matt let out a breath I hadn’t realized he was holding and crossed the threshold, shutting the door behind him.
“Do you honestly want to keep talking about your students?” he asked, leaning against the door frame to the en-suite.
I dragged my teeth over my lip, turning from him as I unfastened my earring and opened up my jewelry bag. “No,” I said. “But there is something I wanted to ask you.”
“Go ahead.”
I popped out the other earring and dropped it into the with the first before starting to turn the chain of my necklace to reach the clasp. “I saw you and Ryan earlier,” I said softly. “Before I texted you. I didn’t hear anything, but it looked… heated.”
I paused, waiting to see if he offered up any information without me directly asking. He didn’t.
“Can I ask what you were arguing about?”
He let out a rough breath, but he didn’t answer.
I slipped the chain from around my neck and dropped it in the bag. “Matt?” I asked, turning?—
I startled slightly, my breath catching. He was far closer than he’d been a second ago. Too close. Close enough to smell his cologne, close enough that I had to tilt my head up a bit to look him in the eyes.
“Christ,” I muttered. “Warn a girl next time.”
His gaze dropped to my mouth, hovering, before lifting dangerously slowly back to my eyes.
“Matt,” I said again, but my voice was too strained, too obvious. I couldn’t move, didn’t know how to anymore — just stood there, my heart slamming against my ribs like a caged animal.
His hand came up slowly, brushing a strand of hair that had fallen from the pins back from my face. His fingers lingered against my cheek, light and careful, but warm, so fucking warm ?—
“You.”
That was it. One word, but it landed like a blow to the head.
My breathing stuttered.
“Me?”
Matt said nothing, but he took a step toward me, closing the distance further, my heart pounding erratically.
“Like, me me?” I asked, blinking at him in confusion, my brain stalling as I tried to make sense of both it and how close he was, how he was looking at me.
“Okay, but, what do you—what about me? Like, was he mad that I was here? Or mad that you’re, no— were with me? Or…or—fuck, Matt—what do you mean ? — ”
He kissed me.
He kissed me, and I lost my goddamn mind. Again .
This wasn’t like the ones before, the ones in front of Ryan, the ones where he’d been showing me off. This wasn’t like the ones on the plane, stupid and reckless and lost in the fantasy of I’ll never see you again .
This had no audience, no witnesses, no script. This had consequences.
His mouth was hot and firm and impossibly sure, his tongue prying my lips open with his hands on the curve of my jaw, anchoring me, pulling me in like gravity. “Fuck,” I breathed against him, and he took the opportunity to deepen it more, like he’d been waiting for the chance.
It wasn’t careful. It wasn’t polite.
And as he walked me backward, my knees hitting the edge of the mattress, I realized it felt horrifyingly real .